Richonne 50 Reasons 2: Make-up Sex
by AFanWhoFeelsThings
Summary: AU Richonne SMUT. Prompt from the 'Richonne 50 Reasons to Have Sex. Category says! Make-up sex! Newly married couple Rick and Michonne have angry, rough, yet tender and loving make-up sex after a night in which they've both been put through the ringer of emotions.


**50 Reasons Why | #2: Make Up Sex**

 **Richonne 50 Reasons Why:**

 **Necessary Roughness**

An AU Richonne 'One Shot'

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Michonne Grimes sat as far away from her husband Rick Grimes as possible in the passenger seat of their black Range Rover, silently fuming.

She was beyond upset.

But she kept her mouth shut, or she would curse him _all the way_ out.

She couldn't believe the drama he'd contributed to tonight. _Of all nights._ All she'd wanted to do was escape with their sleepy, sad, troubled children and go home.

But no...Rick had to be Rick. God, she loved him but sometimes his righteous overprotectiveness when he felt threatened (or saw it happening to someone he loved) was a detriment rather than a help.

Rick was tough; he was no coward by any stretch of the imagination, but when Michonne was pissed he knew to leave well enough alone. Her verbal assaults could be downright _vicious_ when she was really backed into a corner. Always uttered in a low, almost poisonous tone that gave a person the impression she'd gone several steps beyond giving a fuck about their feelings. It was her mother's strength, he always saw in Michonne's anger. Her mother, God rest her soul, was one of the most formidable women Rick ever had the pleasure of knowing.

It took a lot to get Michonne, who was the cool-headed one of the couple, angry. She was smart as hell and pettiness was usually beneath her. She hardly ever lost her patience with the children, or Rick. Hell, she even managed to get along with his ex wife, which most people found hard to do these days.

The second time around had been it for Rick. Michonne was the best wife a man could ask for; she was utterly devoted to him. Likewise, he worshipped the ground she walked on, and he usually found a way to support her no matter what.

It was practically love at first sight when they met at the zoo what felt like yesterday - him being towed along by his inquisitive preteen, her having a grand ole time with her bright, hilarious son. What was a normal, sunny day at the zoo turned into an extraordinary day that led them right here, best friends, partners, and a loving couple.

But even Rick could be a fuck up on occasion. And if you got under Michonne's skin, it was _not_ good.

Rick was also upset. Tonight, yeah he'd fucked up, but he didn't believe it was uncalled for the way she seemed to. He gripped the steering wheel as though trying to choke the life out of it, just like he wanted to choke the life out of the thick, arrogant neck of one Negan Son-of-a-Bitch Costello.

A man had died, yet this was how they were ending their night. It had been her ex-husband Mike's funeral wake, for Christ's sake, but all Negan could do was sit back, down scotch and crack shitty jokes about Michonne waiting all of a few months after her divorce to shack up with Rick.

Yeah, Rick had fucked up, but there was _no fuckin' way_ he was gonna sit there at Mike's uncle's bar and listen to Negan's bullshit all night. Besides, Andre and Carl were starting to get uncomfortable listening to Andre's father's buddy badmouth Carl and Judith's dad right in front of them.

And then finally, Rick saw the normally unflappable Michonne starting to get upset.

She'd looked as though she was seconds away from throwing her sparkling water in Negan's face.

So Rick did what he had to do. He told Negan to shut the fuck up before he _shut_ him up.

He grit his teeth now in the silent Range Rover, switching lanes, zig-zagging through traffic almost absentmindedly as he fumed over his choices tonight. He jetted them home through the streets of Atlanta, knowing he hadn't _had_ a choice. Not in his mind.

Negan was drunk and getting drunker, their children were upset, and Rick's wife was about to explode.

Now Rick wasn't sure if Michonne was angry with him for finally punching Negan in the jaw as they tried to leave (bringing the wake to a screeching, dramatic halt), or if she was upset with him for letting it go on so long, or _what_.

All he knew was that she was angry. Really angry. Maybe with Negan, maybe because Mike was gone. They'd only _just_ finally started getting their relationship back to a good place after their bitter divorce.

Maybe she was angry with her husband for sinking to Negan's level; acting a fool in front of everyone on such a terribly somber occasion. Maybe all of the above.

It was a good thing the kids, including Judith (who idolized the boys and wanted to spend all her time with them, despite their annoyance sometimes) had begged to spend the night with Andre's grandmother, Mike's mom Sandra. A high-spirited woman at the age of a spunky, resilient fifty-two, she was brilliant with the kids.

She loved spending time with them, now that Mike and Michonne had finally reconciled - Carl, sixteen, Andre eleven, and Judith eight going on eighteen. Sandra welcomed their company after the day they'd all had, to brighten everyone's spirits with baking and whatever the rascals wanted to get up to. To keep herself from seeping into a deep depression over the loss of her only son.

But for Rick and Michonne, it was gonna be a long night.

This silent standoff was far from over. Michonne's body language spoke volumes even though neither of them spoke a word. She was pissed about _something_. Not being able to figure it out and her not speaking to him had been agitating Rick the entire ride home.

He got them past their neighborhood welcome sign and drove silently along the dark, tree-lined block. They'd almost made it to their house, finally. It had _already_ been a long night. They were both exhausted.

Rick was suddenly seized with the desire to just let it go, and pull Michonne into his arms so they could go to bed. But nope, she wasted no time taking off her seatbelt and sliding out of the car as soon as he pulled the SUV to a stop in their driveway. Still angry.

Her husband of just three short (but wonderful) years sighed wearily and shut off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt and following after her.

Rick gripped his keys hard as he stalked after his wife in the humid night air. Crickets chirped and a breeze blew through the tall old trees that surrounded them.

Michonne made it to the their porch, climbed it gracefully, and took out her keys to enter their house without a word. He locks trailed down her back, her face totally hidden from him.

Rick stomped without much effort up the freshly repaired steps he'd re-bricked with Carl and Andre as sort of a bonding thing. They'd been sharing custody with Mike and Rick wanted it to _work_.

He closed and locked the wide wooden door behind him as she turned on the light in the foyer.

Michonne began slipping off her shoes at the little table by the door, still not looking at him.

He stood rigidly aside and watched her, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched.

Michonne still said absolutely nothing as she turned her away from him in her fitted black dress to reveal the zipper running down to her statuesque backside. Despite his annoyance and fatigue, he couldn't help his gaze lingering there, like it always did.

Her ass had always been one of his favorite things about his wife, since the day he met her.

She had been knocked down by a purse snatcher running loose in the zoo and he had beaten the guy bloody (a hothead all his life, Rick Grimes, especially then when he was in the middle of his own separation from his estranged wife, Lori).

He had been concerned and professional, even though he was off duty. But he hadn't been able to keep his eyes from memorizing every curve of her amazing body - especially that round, heavy, bouncy apple bottom of hers. Whatever her mother taught her to feed that thing, Rick was eternally grateful, and he did everything he could to encourage her to keep it up.

"Unzip me." He heard her low, detached voice. "I'm going to bed."

And he remembered his anger again at her cold, silent treatment of him when all he'd done was try to be a good husband and defend her. Not to mention the fact (and he knew Shane would back him up on this, having witnessed it firsthand) that Negan wanted to fuck Michonne. He'd always wanted to, and that knowledge made Rick hate the fucker full stop. Mike's good friend or not, Rick still could only barely tolerate him whenever they crossed paths, and that was being generous.

After a moment's stubborn hesitation, Rick stalked over to Michonne and tossed his keys roughly on the table with a loud, jangly thud.

He sighed hard, his warm breath shooting across her skin, making it tingle as he pulled her locs from her neck. He let them rest on her shoulder, stepping up close behind her and letting his front rest against her backside as he unzipped her. Michonne frowned, but said nothing.

She never rebuffed his touch. But he was pushing it.

"You're gonna hafta talk to me at some point, 'Chonne." Rick drawled quietly as he got her dress all the way unzipped.

He sighed again, beginning to miss her, still annoyed, but now wanting to move on to the part where she forgave him. He wanted to make love to his wife and he wanted to comfort her, not fight with her. But she seemed hellbent on ignoring him and it was really starting to get to him.

When he realized she wasn't going to let him off the hook, he finally stepped back. He noticed that the knuckles of his punching hand were bruised and starting to swell.

He had really lost his temper back there. In front of his kids. Shit.

"If it's about Negan, alright, I'm sorry. Okay? I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. Can you just - ?"

He huffed an angry breath when Michonne pulled off her black stockings right there in the foyer, tantalizing him with her shapely ass in his face, and kept walking up the stairs like he wasn't talking at all.

Okay, _what the fuck?_

" _Michonne._ Stop walkin' away from me, _goddamn it._ "

"I just wanna _go to bed_ , Rick!" She hissed, pausing at the top of the stairs when he'd started to march up there after her.

She glared down at him through narrow, glistening eyes. She was on the verge of tears, for the upteenth time that day. She was trying desperately to hold it together. It had been a long night, and the drama had exhausted her, not to mention that it only served to remind her how much she really did care for Mike. Just how much, despite their complicated history, she was going to mourn him.

He had been her first love, the father of her only child, and though she was happily in love with Rick and their little misfit family - she missed her old friend from around the block. Big Head Mike, they used to call him.

Michonne felt like she was going to crumble. She was furious that they didn't have more _time_. She had just wanted to show him that in the end, they hadn't parted because she didn't believe in him. They just didn't work as husband and wife.

Not like she and Rick. She felt she had truly found her soulmate in Rick, and Mike had finally been on the verge of accepting that as just a fact. Not something designed to hurt _him_.

She was crushed that it had been one of the kids he'd been working with that had killed him. He tried to hard to help that kid, but in the end the poor soul's traumatized, tortured mind was too much for Mike to handle.

And through it all, the father of her beautiful son now gone, that slimy son of a bitch Negan chose _that night_ to let his true colors show.

Michonne really wanted to scream as loud as she could, but that wasn't really an option. So she would just bury everything and take her tired ass to bed. She didn't have the words to tell Rick how angry, cheated, frustrated and grief-stricken she was, so she just dropped her eyes from his and turned away again. She finally let the tears come as she tread through the dark hallway toward their bedroom.

Rick caught up with her easily, the fire of determination burning in his belly. He managed to move around to cut her off when she reached the threshold of their master bedroom, pushing her against the closing door. He trapped her there, raising his hands to brace himself against the sturdy wood on either side of her head, glaring down at her. That wasn't gonna be good enough.

"Not until we straighten this shit out." He growled, and then his voice softened considerably. "What is it, baby? Is it me? Is it Mike?"

Rick reached down to stroke the soft skin of her cheek, seeing how hard she was trying to hold back a huge sob. She was furious, he could feel her shaking as he leaned his body into hers. And she was in deep mourning. Damn. This wasn't about Negan at all.

"What's my baby gonna do without his father, Rick…?" She whispered. He knew that she wasn't referring to _his_ relationship with Andre, so he simply listened. "I know Mike wanted to help that young man, but I'm so _furious_ with him for taking it so far! He should be _here!_ Not stabbed to death by someone he was trying to help."

Michonne bit her lip so hard Rick feared she'd draw blood, angrily clamping down on her emotions. She shook her head in anguish, her large, shining brown eyes boring into his concerned blues.

He was angry _for_ her, now.

"And who am I gonna take it out on? Negan? He's not worth a second thought! A sick kid who couldn't help himself? _Mike?_ _You?_ What the hell good is any of _that_ gonna do? I just wish I didn't _feel_ this way. I wish I felt _anything_ other than this...anger..."

She was gonna explode if she didn't let this out.

Rick nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he gripped her chin between his fingers.

"Take it out on me, then." Came his low, serious voice finally.

Michonne frowned, tears streaming down her cheeks despite herself. "What…?"

In response, Rick let go of Michonne's chin and reached down to grip her hard by the arms, pushing her back into the bedroom door with a quiet _thud_. He exhaled roughly through his nostrils, leaning so close that his hot pink lips touched her silky-soft brown ones.

"You need somebody who can take it, so take it out on _me_ , 'Chonne..." Rick breathed huskily.

He kissed her, his grip tightening on her as he pinned her to the door. He was heavy, and _strong_ , her devoted husband. Michonne gasped, pushing against him as he dipped his tongue into her mouth and pressed his erection along her slender, jutting hip. "Were you even listening to-? _Mmmmm!_ "

She felt a surge of lust mix with her molten anger, and she couldn't believe his nerve. He had always been insatiable, and they were working on having another child now that they had a big enough house - but now was not the time! At least, that was what her mind was telling her. Her body, however, was struggling to resist her husband's incredibly intense presence.

But Michonne could never resist her husband.

Still, she tried, confused and hesitant. She jerked away from him and pushed more forcefully, her dress slipping from one shoulders as he groped her, attempting to hoist her up against the door. "You wanna hit somethin'? _Hit me._ "

"You are so _crazy_... _what are you..?_ _**Rick!**_ " Michonne gripped his neck at the same time as she undulated against him, her panties flooding at the feel of his thick length rubbing insistently along her sex, now.

She was still confused and furious. _Fuck_ , but she was also weak for him.

He took another kiss, tenderly sucking on her lips, stroking her body lovingly, slamming her back against the door. It rattled in its frame but he ignored the impact as Michonne continued to buck against him, now torn between kissing him and pushing at him.

"I don't wanna hit you…" she breathed now, giving in and kissing him back heatedly, melting when he grabbed her by the back of the neck and wheeled her around to carry her to the bed.

"You're not gonna hurt me." He uttered as he took two long strides across the room, still holding her by the neck, his bruised fingers tangled up in her soft locs.

Rick kissed his wife again when she wrapped her legs around him, her moist center molded to his big python, trapped in his black slacks. He paused at the foot of their queen sized, four-poster bed, feeling Michonne growing wetter and more pliant with each kiss. Maybe he wanted her to hurt him a little. But it was clear she needed an outlet, a release, and he was going to give her that, however he had to.

He let go of her lips and pressed his forehead to hers. Waiting.

Silently, Michonne released the thick curls at the nape of his neck with one hand and hastily loosened his tie for him. Then, her smooth cheeks streaked with tears, she snatched it off and tossed it to the side. Rick watched her, holding her firmly, his deep, intense eyes glazed with desire. She pulled open his shirt, popping buttons as she went, and raked her nails down his exposed flesh. He flinched, sucking in a breath across his plump bottom lip, and smacked her ass _hard_.

Michonne gasped as the impact vibrated deliciously through her flesh. It made her scratch harder, and Rick gritted his teeth, knowing she was gonna leave red welts on his chest. Not giving a damn.

Feeling a surge of empowerment, Michonne leaned down and bit his neck in further retaliation.

Rick grunted, burying his face in her locs, his dick hardening to steel.

He hoisted her up and tossed her on the bed, pulling her dress off her shoulders and down her body.

He slowly exposed her lovely, dark-skinned body to his roving eyes, tossing the dress aside as he climbed onto the bed and started to unbuckle his belt. Michonne leaned up and kissed Rick fiercely, reaching down into his black slacks to stroke his hot dick, her anger fusing with an urgent need to be plundered until she could feel nothing but intense pleasure.

Rick took hold of her face with one hand and they kissed as though attacking each other with weaponized lips before breaking apart. They felt the growing need to join attack them as they both fully disrobed, tossing whatever remained of their clothes off the high bed, haphazardly around the room.

Rick took one last taste of his wife's juicy, addictive lips and watched as she crawled back elegantly across the bed; naked and dripping wet, yet retreating from him. He breathed, stalking her like she was prey, his eyes tracking her every move. His dick was hard and thick, a heat-seeking missile standing at full attention.

Then he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her by the leg until her perfect, dewdrop breasts crashed into his hard chest and her lips were once again at his mercy.

Rick fell over with his wife in his arms as her hands tugging on his thick hair, kissing her passionately. He was determined to soothe her anguish. If getting a little rough with each other was the only cure for their grief right now, so be it.

Michonne opened her legs for him willingly, wanton little breaths escaping her hypnotizing mouth as he took hold of her throat and latched his other strong hand onto her toned hip. Her ass bounced against his thighs and balls, her juices seeping from her slick pussy all over him.

Rick rubbed his hot length and thick head along her tender folds, teasing her, pinning her down again.

Michonne raked her nails along the skin of his chest and arm, panting, ready for him to fuck her into their mattress.

After a moment's hesitation, he uttered: "Last chance, baby…"

Michonne frowned hard, frustrated that he was teasing her, onto his game. She huffed out a needy breath, slapping him against his toned stomach. Rich bucked his hardon against her, bouncing his strong thighs into her thick ass again.

"You can do better than that, Michonne." His dark blue galaxies burned down at her.

God, she was so in love with him.

And still so angry for this bitter pill they were forced to swallow with Mike's untimely death.

She slapped Rick's face.

Michonne winced, but Rick didn't.

She slapped him again. His nostrils flared like a bull. "That it?"

Michonne gave Rick another smack, turning his tanned skin bright pink this time.

She instantly felt better - and he merely tilted his head, rolling his shoulders to shake off her emotional assault. A tangle of brown curls hung in his eyes. And he lifted her by the ass and _pounded_ into her, hitting the back of her in an explosion of pleasure that caused her to cry out.

" _Oooh,_ _ **shit!**_ "

Rick began to fuck Michonne silly, claiming her lips with a low groan; his chest stinging as she clung to him, her nails still digging into his flesh.

Every fear and every surge of despair she'd been feeling all day since the moment she opened her eyes and realized she was going to bury her son's father went away as her husband made love to her.

Rick's forceful thrusts turned slow and tender, and he wrapped her up in his arms as they began to really crash into each other. He licked and kissed at her breasts, pulling them into his mouth, rolling his tongue around each of her nipples in turn. He nipped at her skin, causing Michonne to moan and her pussy to spasm around his slick, steel length.

Rick groaned again, kissing every inch of her that his lips could reach, losing himself in her tight, molten walls. Holy Mother Mary, every inch of her was _home_. He could fall into her juicy depths and not return for days on end.

Overwhelmed with their chase for release, the couple began to fuck harder again, slamming into each other across the bed. Michonne pushed Rick down on his back and straddled him, now working her hips on top of his, her ass swaying and bouncing up and down his dick, making him lay back and swoon.

"Ohhh...baby…. _fuck…_. _urrgghmm_ … _!_ " Her old man grunted, breathless, grabbing hold of his wife's hips and thrusting up inside of her heavenly pussy with all his might. Michonne bounced on top of him, crying out with every single impact, holding onto his arm with one hand and reaching down to pleasure herself with the other.

Rick stared at Michonne's perfect breasts, reaching up to massage one as he fucked her on top of him like a wild animal. They were sweating and panting, Michonne with her head thrown back in ecstasy and her pussy exploding with fireworks every time the raging bull between her slick thighs pounded into her from below.

Finally, Michonne's indulgent rubbing of her clit and Rick's unrelenting pounding sent her torpedoing into the Milky Way. She came hard, all over him, shuddering as her walls clenched around his throbbing length. She pulled him right into the stars with her, milking his cock until he came, too.

Rick let go of her, steadily easing his grip on her tender flesh, loosening his hold on her.

Michonne came down from her high and went boneless, falling over on top of him in a shuddering heap.

He rubbed her ass softly, stroking her cheek and kissing her hair, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"We're gonna be okay, Michonne…" he told her, wrapping her up in his arms.

The crickets outside their hard-earned family nest in suburban Atlanta began to come alive again.

The atmosphere of the quiet room began to come back to them. They were husband and wife, just starting out, trying to raise their children to be good people. They'd been wounded by many things in their lives before they met, but now that they had each other, theirs was a bond that no one could touch.

Rick knew Michonne's needs better than she did. And she always trusted him, put her faith in him, believed in him to be the best husband and father he could be.

She believed in him now.

She nodded slowly against his chest, ready for a bath and rest.

He happily obliged her.

 **The End...?**

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 **A/N:**

 **I am usually not very good at writing one shots/prompts, so I hope this one was okay!**

 **I was really intrigued by this prompt in the '50 Reasons Why' challenge by** _ **Richonne Just Desserts**_ **on Tumblr, so I just had to write it!**

 **LOL of course now that I have, I (b/c I'm cray, naturally) and considering continuing it as a multi-chapter down the line. Perhaps with a supernatural element...I know...what the hell is wrong with me?**

 **Anyhoo, this was so much fun! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.**

 **I have a few more of these prompts in the queue, so stay tuned for more.**

 **-Kendra**


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